Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Chapter Forty-One

What Mosby Ellis had told him made Jerry Benson very happy that Jacoby had stationed a guard outside Fanny’s room at the hospital. He looked at his watch and wondered if it was too late to reach Jacoby at his office. He took a chance and dialed his number.

“Sorry. He left about an hour ago. Can someone else help you?”

“No. I need to talk to Jacoby. This is Gerald Benson – Fanny Britt’s attorney. Could you let me have his home number?”

“Sorry. I can’t do that, but if you give me your number I can have him call you.”

Ten minutes later his phone rang. “Funny thing, Benson. I started to call you before I left the office. I was wondering how Ms. Britt was doing. Has her memory come back yet?”

Jerry could hear the sound of banging pots and pans in the background. It sounded like Jacoby was cooking dinner. The thought of dinner reminded Jerry he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. “No change. But I did get some information this afternoon that has me a little worried.”

“I’m listening.” Jerry thought he heard the unmistakable sound of a beer can being opened. It could have been a soda can, but Jacoby struck him as a beer guy.

“Mosby Ellis came by my office this afternoon. He’d done some research on Jaffe and his associates and one of the items he uncovered is unsettling. Back in 1969 the Senator’s father ran into some union problems at his mills. Apparently he found a way to make the problems go away.”

“So? What does that have to do with anything?”

“The problems went away after one of the organizers was killed. It’s the way he was killed that makes me nervous.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Both of his eyes had been gouged out. Sound familiar?”

There was a choking sound on the other end of the line.

“Jacoby, I’d like you to check someone out for me. It’s just a hunch, but could you run a check on a guy named Carl Stone. He was the chauffer for the Senator’s old man back then. My instincts tell me his job duties might have been more wide-ranging.”

“That’s not a lot to go on, Benson, but I’ll see what I can find out. Maybe I’ll just ask the Senator tomorrow night.”

“Thanks, Detective. I appreciate it.”

He’d already hung up when what Jacoby had said registered. He was going to be talking to the Senator. The detective had more chutzpah than he’d thought.



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